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inquisitornocturn · 15 days ago

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≪─ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍɪᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ: ᴄʜ. 15 - ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ─≫

⋟ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sebastian LaCroix/f!reader the Ventrue neonate

⋟ ᴛᴀɢꜱ: y/n etc is not used, overall story rating - E, none for this chapter.

⋟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Needing to pursue the Nosferatu, you travel to Hollywood. You seek out Velvet Velour because of the tip from Bertram, but you find more than just information.

⋟ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3,240

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: This chapter was intended to deal with more, but it came to a natural end and I decided to leave the rest for a following chapter. It's a little shorter but hopefully not disappointing. Sebastian will return in the next chapter as well. Enjoy~

⋟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ʟɪꜱᴛ: [link] | on AO3 [link]

You slam the door behind you and don’t even look back when the taxi driver wishes you a good night and drives off. Looking in front of you, first you see a convenience store, then when your eyes sweep to both sides of the building you notice other businesses, most of them having dark windows and locked doors. Only makes sense at this hour, especially at Hollywood.

Hollywood. You’ve been here before, many times, just not exactly… here. Your visits consisted of skyscrapers, elaborate mansions that cost millions of dollars, expensive parties where one bottle of champagne or wine cost almost a yearly salary of a middle-class worker and the rest that comes from being rich, powerful and young: sex, drugs and political games.

Yet that past seems so distant to you now, like it happened not months but centuries ago. A life that belonged to someone else. Someone who is not a kindred or a so called Ventrue. Who is not a plaything to a spoiled vampire Prince or a pawn to those sitting in the Ivory Tower. Someone who was somebody before. Is that woman still alive, somewhere? In memories or in wills, in documents that you signed and contracts that you made. In deals that you shook hands over and fucked for, selling if not your soul then your body for more profit, for more power, for more influence. Do you still exist, as you were, or is that all gone? Forgotten, swept away like a pile of dirt by the corporate broom that has neither mercy or empathy for those who fall, disappear, vanish.

Are you any more free now than you were before? You had shackles before, you do have them now, just of a different kind. The shackles of hunger, the Beast, the Camarilla and… the shackles of your own, still very human, desires.

With a sigh you lower your head for a moment, feeling the hunger gnawing at you somewhere deep inside and far away despite the fact that you fed before leaving your apartment at Skylines. That hunger is always lingering, always just a whistle call away, like a monstrous animal ready to pounce upon you the moment you don’t pay enough attention. No, you can’t focus on that now. Neither the blood or the fact that you had an unpleasantly long time to ponder your strange, twisted existence while on the way here. Someone busted the tires of your car, again, and the taxi driver, for some reason, refused to turn on a radio, one thing that would’ve helped you drown out your thoughts.

“Watch it!” A man in semi-expensive sportswear runs his shoulder into yours, forcing you backwards and off the cerb where you almost lose your step. He doesn’t even look back at you while you try to momentarily find your balance and when you find your footing, the middle finger rises on its own.

“Fucker!” You yell, but the stranger doesn’t react even to that. Someone else passing by snickers and you lower your hand, feeling foolish and too emotional once again. Maybe Sebastian is right, maybe you’re not too far from a damned Gangrel with your temper.

Looking around once again, trying not to think what exactly is it that allows you to show your temper like this when before, in your mortal life, you were never so hotheaded or so angry, you try to remember what Tung’s text message said. Something about a strip club, so you pull out your phone and after few clicks on silicone buttons you bring up the singular sentence that the nosferatu deemed you worthy enough of receiving last night:

“Vesuvius, meet VV, she might know something.”

You only heard about VV, the Toreador that found her place here in Hollywood. Some suspect she’s Abrams’ childe, but the truth is that she has been adopted by him, just like you are going to be adopted by Sebastian. You wonder if the news spread here too, in the Anarch territory, but you can worry about that later. Only if you are confronted with such information, but if not, you are not going to be the one presenting the facts to the people who might as well become your enemies at the turn of heart.

Soft clicks of your heels on the concrete begin to give you more confidence the further you walk and thankfully you don’t need to wander the streets of Hollywood forever because the green, neon sign of Vesuvius appears quite quickly before you. The closer you draw to it, the louder music inside appears, yet when you push open the door – it’s not as deafening as you thought it will be.

At your entrance, the woman at the counter just glances at you and says nothing else, returning to read the pop culture magazine that you recognize only by name. Maybe because you’re not a man she sees no reason to accost you, shake you down for anything suspicious, or maybe she’s one of VV’s girls and knows a kindred when she sees one. Whichever the case is, you are glad not be forced into yapping needlessly. You have a suspicion that you will do this plenty while here.

Entering the main floor you see the usual. Countless strip clubs looks the same: scantily dressed young things, swinging their goods for the patrons that either haven’t seen a clean shirt in a week or have so much spare cash they don’t even see these girls as people. You also easily notice how Vesuvius is trying to look more high-class than what it actually is. The paint is peeling in places, the seats look worn from the scrubbing of cleaners and the stages look dull. You don’t feel good here.

Making your way through the club that you don’t expect to be any fuller than what it is on a Wednesday night, you try to find anyone who looks like they stand out. Or rather, you are looking for VV and if you know anything about Toreadors, which is not much, she should be the prettiest flower in this garden.

Approaching the main bar, you ignore couple patrons who are trying to cheese the bartender out of cheaper drinks and then stop in your tracks. Out of the doorway to the right of the bar a figure emerges. Voluptuous and alluring like a sin wrapped in silken ribbons. Woman’s hair is bright red and her lips match the color. The lingerie she’s wearing leaves almost nothing to the imagination, the top pushing her breasts up like two pale mounds that countless people, you are sure, wish to climb. Her thong strings are hiked up high over her hip bones and stockings only add to the sensuality of her visage, all topped off with tasteful heels and a choker.

This must be VV.

You walk towards her and the woman does not seem surprised to see you. In fact, she smiles with the most welcoming yet seductive smile you’ve seen, and you’ve seen some high-class escorts in your previous life.

“Ah, you must be the famous fledgling, are you not? I knew you will find your way to my club.” VV begins and you smile to her in return.

“VV, I presume? Yes, it is me. Mind if we speak somewhere private?” Your eyes involuntarily turn to the closest patron, a man in black shirt on a bar stool. He doesn’t look like he’s paying attention, but you don’t want to take any chances. Any risk of breaking the Masquerade makes your muscles tense.

“So eager to have me all to yourself, sweet thing?” With a chuckle VV draws your attention back to her and you can clearly envision just how many mortals she enchants exactly like this. “Very well, I have been meaning to talk to you as well. Follow me.”

Turning on her silver heel, the Toreador walks back through where she emerged and you are having a hard time trying not to stare at her pale, round ass, swinging seductively right in front of your face, as if VV is climbing the stairs as slow as possible on purpose. You clear your throat, your cheeks begin to burn if not with a real blush then at least with the memory of being so flustered, and you try to keep your eyes to the ground, but it’s almost impossible.

Where Velvet leads you appear to be her private ‘dancing’ room. There’s a small tub, a pole, comfortable couch that looks much better than the ones downstairs. She gestures for you to sit, but you just shake your head.

“I’ll pass.”

“If you prefer to do it standing, I can fulfill that wish. And… many others.” She smiles and puts hands on her hips, pushing her chest out. “So, little Camarilla snack, what can I do for you?” VV gives your figure a long, slow one-over and you swallow dryly.

“I heard that you might have information where nosferatu have tucked themselves away?” You fight yourself to keep your eyes on VV’s, but her breasts keep enticing you like a siren call. VV herself seems not to mind your staring one bit. Instead she chuckles and steps a little closer, her slender finger adorned with crimson painted nail, pushes your chin up and forces you to meet her heavy-lidded gaze.

“Did you now? And who exactly told you this, hm?” She speaks in a voice as rich and smooth as velour. How fitting. You wonder if she truly is trying to seduce you or is it just how she is.

“Doesn’t matter.” You politely push her hand away and VV pretends to pout for a little bit, then she chuckles.

“Unfair. How about this, honey buns, you give me information, I give you information.”

“Does that mean you do actually know where nosferatu are?”

“Maybe. But…” She sighs and for a moment the act drops, Velvet’s smile disappears and she crosses arms under her heavy chest, pushing her breasts up even more. You swallow again. “Seems you have come here knowing who I am and knowing what I might know. If you do me a favor, I will share with you what I know.”

“A favor.” You echo and frown, seductive charms dissipating like cigarette smoke in the night air. “You want me to do some dirty job for you and I don’t even know if you are not bluffing.” You mirror VV subconsciously, folding your arms as well and she smirks at you.

“Let’s speak plainly then.” Velvet begins and you see the apex predator in her at last. Beneath the charms, the undress, the words, there she is – the vampire, huntress of the night and much more experienced than you are. “I don’t know where nosferatu are, but Isaac does. Help him, he will help you.” The woman pauses and taps one perfectly lacquered finger against her painted lips. “It is most curious that you didn’t go to him first though, I’m sure those have been your orders?”

You can’t mistake the taunting in the Toreador’s voice and try to keep yourself cool, relaxed, at ease. Being honest with yourself, you didn’t expect her to taunt you, try to provoke you, but you probably should have.

“Yes, those have been my orders. However, I would prefer not to deal with him.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“I don’t believe he would be very much willing to share what he knows without, just like you, sending me on million errands first.” Your smile is bitter and VV’s eyes narrow at that, but she keeps the smirk on her lips.

“So you’re trying to cut corners with me. Clever, little morsel, very clever.” At last Velour seems to relax a little bit and waves her hand as if trying to make a point. “Unfortunately, you will still have to talk to Isaac. But I have other information that could serve you and your dear, dear Camarilla. Only if you do that one, little, teensy, tiny thing I asked of you.” The seductress returns and you slowly exhale, your shoulders slump and you accept defeat. It’s always like that. Anyone with one rung on the ladder above you feel like they can send you around doing their dirty work.

“Just tell me.”

You only half-listen to VV detailing and lamenting some sort of amateur script writer and how he is most likely working with a kindred to write his latest horror flick or something. You nod and agree to help her, if not for Velvet’s own benefit, then for one of the Camarilla. You’re about to turn away and head out, when something snaps you out of your thoughts that already drifted to how you are going to deal with Abrams.

“You know, I went through adoption myself.” She says and you stop, then turn halfway to her, your eyes fixating on VV’s and you see mischievous sparks in them. “Very much like yourself, don’t you think?”

“And what exactly do you mean?” You’re aware that your voice sounds harsher than you intend, but that doesn’t appear to perturb VV in the slightest. She just chuckles and taps her bottom lip just like she did earlier.

“Oh the entanglements with Sires, or would-be-Sires.” Leaning slightly in your direction, Velvet narrows her eyes in an expression that is full of smugness. “Do you think Prince really wants you?”

You try your best to school your emotions, not to show that her question caught you off-guard and poked a sensitive spot, but you know that she noticed. You know that she’s aware just how much this little probe rattled you. Clearing your throat, you turn to her fully once again and rise an eyebrow, tapping into your defiant nature like it’s your sword and armor.

“Why would he suggest adopting me if he didn’t.”

“Maybe he just likes putting reigns on the fiery ones. Or shutting them up. In more ways than one.”

Good Lord, you wish you could wipe that smug smirk off her face, but you just momentarily clench your jaw and offer a smirk in return.

“Just like you have been by Abrams?” You think this will hit the sensitive spot in VV as well, but you clearly are wrong because she just laughs.

“Yes, exactly like that. Don’t be ashamed, sugar plum, we all want power. If we don’t have our own, we borrow it from others, by any means necessary. But-“ She straightens her back and looks away, to the stripping poll, then back at you. “I do not judge you, just so you know. Let’s stay good, good friends, okay?” Biting her bottom lip, VV appears like she’s undressing you with her eyes alone and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Take care, VV. I will come back with that script you wish for.” When your back is turned to her, you hear her parting words, but don’t look at the Toreador again.

“Your adoption is big news, you know. Be careful out there, you don’t know on who’s toes you might be stepping, my love.”

You walk out.

With your thoughts reeling like a hamster’s wheel, you barely notice how you make it down the stairs, across the club and outside, into the not-so-fresh Hollywood’s night air. Paranoia gnaws at you for a moment, VV’s words haunting you like shadows of the past and you quickly look around, almost expecting to see a glow of vampiric eyes or a barrel of a gun aimed at you. Maybe even a stake launched in your direction. But there’s nothing. Some late night strollers and hookers is all you see around.

You need a break, you know it.

Letting out a tired sigh, you rub the bridge of your nose, trying to regain your composure. Trying to regain the sense of self. Focus on your tasks, you remind yourself, focus on your goals. But then, a familiar voice calls your name and your head snaps up in attention. You glance around and immediately notice a figure rushing towards you. The closer it gets, the more your unbeating heart sinks. It’s one face you were hoping to never see again.

Samantha.

“Oh my God, it is you!” She rushes from the restaurant entrance and you nearly reel back from the woman, but stand your ground. You knew this day might come, one where someone from your past runs into you, yet you are not sure just how ready you are to deal with this. “Everyone’s so worried about you! What happened? You just vanished after that last party! You know what, nevermind, let’s just go, I will call the others, we have been looking for you for so long!” Samantha reaches to take your elbow but you step aside and avoid her touch, making the woman look at you with concern. “What… happened to you?” She asks again but this time her voice sounds sad.

“I cannot talk. Whatever it is you thought you knew about me – forget it.” With a frown you look at her and Samantha gives you an even more worried look.

“What do you mean, forget it?” She then changes her mind and tries to get a hold of your arm again. “Let’s go, whatever happened, we will help.”

You avoid the touch again and noticing some people walking in your direction, begin to feel the rising panic. You need to shut her up, before she causes the scene and possibly gets you both killed.

“Samantha, look at me.” You demand and the woman is clearly about to take out her cellphone, but now she rises her dark eyes which show nothing but concern and confusion. “You will walk away and forget seeing me. You will never come here looking for me again. You won’t let others to look for me either.”

The fount of your power increases your hunger when you tap into it, but you can worry about it later. Kine are getting closer and you are not sure if your attempt even worked, but at last Samantha’s shoulders relax and she looks dazed, like she’s experiencing a dream.

“I won’t ever… come… looking for you…” With a slow drawl the woman replies and you sigh slightly with relief. So it did work. Glancing around you at last see that it’s just a prostitute with some John and then look back at Samantha.

“Go now, leave. Don’t ever come back.”

Samantha’s head bobs on her shoulders for a moment, then she nods, even her actions betraying her dream-like state, and at last this shadow of your past departs. Slowly, step by step, the woman you once called a friend walks away and out of your life. For her sake you hope permanently. The couple pass you without even giving you a second glance and you exhale with relief. Crisis averted, Masquerade protected. For now.

Yet as you watch Samantha disappear into some side street, the reality of what just happened threatens to come crushing down. Your past, your present, the hunger, the vampires, the fragile balance between your world and hers. No, you can’t allow yourself to sink into these musings, you know they will only make you miserable. So you shake your head, roll your shoulders and exhale in a self-soothing attempt.

Focus. Proceed. Seek.

Abrams. You need to see Abrams after all.

And you still have enough time to do just that tonight.

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